Grief like knives

[bythewaves]

Who: Maglor
Broadcast: yes
Action: Huntress
When: Now

One moment, Maglor was kneeling by his brother's side, treating a head injury with his cousin's help. The next moment, there is a hole in the part of his heart that once held his kinsfolk's touch, and Maglor's voice keens, a terrible, inhuman sound, like shards of ice that tear through a soul, grief too deep for words. It echoes through the ship, shaking the walls with his pain before he falls silent.

It is the worst time for it to happen, ships in crisis, folk in disarray. But if anyone finds him, he is unconscious in the corridor with tears on his cheeks. He's also started to look slightly translucent, in the right light.

Comments

[bythewaves]

[ They can puppy pile on the narrow bed ]

We are. [ He sighs and relaxes ] Thank you.

[twilightminstrel]

[Plenty of space! He nudges him gently, managing the barest of smiles.]

How often have you picked up the pieces you've found of me. [It's not really a question.]

[bythewaves]

[ They will make it work as they always do! ]

As often as you do it for me. [ Maglor nudges him companionably back. He doesn't have to pretend, with Daeron ]

Will you sing for me again?

[twilightminstrel]

[As long as they need to.

Daeron tugs lightly on a braid and coaxes Maglor into leaning more on him with an arm loosely around him. Neither of them have to pretend. There aren't lies between them when it matters.

Instead of answering with mere words, he obliges. This time his song is of memory of light and life, of dances under starlight and trees.]

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor sighs softly as he relaxes, leaning against the other bard. He doesn't have to pretend to be more cheerful here, no need to be strong. It isn't the same sort of comfort that he had with his brother but different can be good too, and Daeron understands him the way few others can or do.

Quietly he starts to sing as well, eventually, echoing Daeron's tales with his own, remembering a time before moon and sun ]